Do Not Cry
by tuuliii
Summary: DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE MOVIE, BECAUSE THIS ONE CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS! Written only few hours after I saw the film, and if you've seen it too, you probably know what this story contains and what scene inspired me.


**AN: If you didn't see the warning in the summary, I'll say it again; **

**DO NOT READ THIS UNLESS YOU HAVE SEEN THE MOVIE! CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS! **

**There. Now, if you have seen it, then you probably understand why I had to write this, and not study for my matriculation exams.**

* * *

Do Not Cry

Isobel Grey was putting on her hat in front of the mirror in the hall. The long pin in her fingers found its way through the fabric and her hair easily enough. After all, she had used them her whole life. The hat was decorated with a large, dark feather and a bow. It was a new favourite of hers, as was the coat she had chosen to wear.

They were both her favourite color. Isobel had always liked the different shades of blue and violet, and her opinion it matched well with her complexion and hair in particular. These days, it was just a bit greyer than before.

She didn't feel old exactly. She wasn't, in her opinion. Isobel was closer to Robert and Cora's age than Violet's, but somehow, they had ended up befriending each other. They were both opinionated, sharp tongued, stubborn, and loved to tease each other.

Her husband came out of the drawing room just as she was done with the hat. His eyes lit up when he saw her. They always did. "Ah, you're off to have tea with Violet then. Send her my regards, I haven't seen her for a while."

"I will. We haven't really gotten the chance to chat. It's been so busy since the royal visit."

Dickie came to her side and helped her into the coat. "We must try and change that," he said as he affectionately watched his wife. Kissing her cheek, he let go of her shoulders. "See you before dinner."

With a smile, Isobel opened the door of Crawley House and stepped out. Autumn had once again arrived, and her roses had dropped their leaves. There were still some apples left in the trees that were growing in her garden, but they were too high up for their reach, and her husband didn't let her climb the ladder._ I don't want you to get hurt._

Dickie shut the door behind her, and Isobel walked out of the gate into the street. It was a beautiful day. It had rained for almost a week, so the ground was wet and muddy. This was the first day of sunlight and it delighted her. She had always liked the colors and smells of autumn, even though it meant another cold and wet winter was coming.

When the familiar figure of Dower House came to view, a hint of guilt overcame her. She ought to visit Violet more often. They were friends after all. But now that she had asked her to come today, it was high time to change that.

Isobel rang the bell at the front door and soon Spratt was greeting her and taking her coat. "Lady Grantham is in the drawing room, your Ladyship."

"Thank you, Spratt."

After two years, it still felt odd being called 'Your Ladyship'. Isobel had never particularly cared for the aristocracy and sometimes she even fought against it, but the title and duties that came with it were a worthy sacrifice. She was happy and satisfied with her life with Dickie.

The Dowager Countess of Grantham was sitting beside her desk. She wore her spectacles and was just finishing writing a letter. She put down her pencil to greet her cousin, taking off the glasses in the process. She looked a bit worn out. "Isobel, my dear, do sit down. Spratt will bring us some tea in a minute."

Making sure her dress folded neatly under her, Isobel sat down and lay down the purse on her hands on the settee. "I was just writing a letter to cousin Maud. She tells me that Lucy is writing to Tom almost every day!"

"Oh, how nice! I do wish somethings comes of it!"

"Me too. Think about it, _Tom_ of all people would become the master of a great house and an estate!" The small laugh that escaped Violets lips told Isobel that she was much more pleased than she let on.

"It's a real 20th century story! From chauffeur to the master of a grand house! Marvelous, isn't it?"

"Yes, I have to admit that I've grown very fond of him over the years. He turned out to be a sensible person with a bit of education."

Just then Spratt opened the door with a tea trey in hand and lay it down on the table in the middle of the room. "Ah, Here comes our tea!"

Over a cup of tea, the women quickly found their comfortable routine of gossiping, and arguing about things they disagreed with. At first, they might have found each other insufferable, but over the years and shared sorrows they had found a link between them. They were friends and arguing was a part of that. Violet and Isobel were both very opinionated and strong women, so they fit together perfectly.

After they had finished, both women got up and Isobel sat back down to the settee. "Dickie sent his regards. He feels we haven't seen enough of you lately."

"Yes, well, you all have your own lives, and so you should."

It made Isobel feel quite sad in a way, that she had neglected their friendship because of her marriage, but it was true. She didn't feel as lonely as she had in the past and her work at the hospital kept her busy. Not that she had ever really minded living on her own. She had her work and the family. Only after her engagement had gone wrong, she had realized how nice it would have been to share her life with someone who genuinely cared.

"Isobel...there is another reason I asked you to come here today." Violet sounded serious and sat down on her favourite chair, clutching her cane, while she watched her in the eye with an equally serious look.

"What is it?"

"I wanted to tell you this privately, before the rest of the family. I would hate for you to find it out through them."

"Find out what?" She asked with a shaky voice. Isobel didn't like this at all. Somehow deep inside her she already knew what was coming. Her heart started beating faster with everything passing second of silence.

"That I don't have long to live..." Violet said it with such softness and calmness, like it couldn't be more ordinary, but Isobel felt like someone had punched her in the stomach.

She was not able to say anything. There simply were no words for this situation. Of course, she had known this day would come, but when it came to it, it just felt wrong. So terribly, terribly wrong.

After what felt like an eternity, she was able to look at the formidable Dowager Countess of Grantham in the eye. Isobel's voice was quiet and broken. "What is it?"

"Cancer..."

"Oh no..." Of course. Of all the diseases in the word, she had cancer.

"...and I've had it for a while now."

Isobel was shaking her head in denial. It couldn't be, could it? She couldn't be dying. She was Violet Crawley. She had always been there and always would.

"How long have you known? Why haven't you told us?"

"I didn't want to spoil the royal visit. And afterwards...I was just waiting for the right moment, and now I think the right moment has come."

_The royal visit? _

Suddenly she remembered the night of the ball. "You were alone with Mary, when I came to fetch you to dance. You told her then, didn't you?"

_And I interrupted your moment._

"Yes, I did."

The first hot tear slipped down Isobel's cheek. She drew in deep breath, wiped it away and tried to keep it together. "And I was so happy..." She was sure her whole body was shaking by now.

The evening and the ball had been dreamy. And all the while she had been completely unaware. "How long do you have left?" Saying the sentence took all her energy and she still wasn't sure how audible it was with her shaking voice.

"I don't know precisely, but I do know that Christmas 1927 is going to be my last."

Isobel covered her eyes with her hand as more tears came. _This is going to be her last Christmas_. She had never shown such emotion in front of Violet. Her left hand went to her purse to find a handkerchief.

"Don't cry, my dear. I've lived a long and good life and you shouldn't get too upset about it. I won't."

"But...but I will. You are my friend. My best friend and I am going to miss you so terribly, terribly much. Who am I going to argue with? Who's going to tell me how to behave?" Isobel tried to dry the tears as best as she could. Her mind was whirling. "I'm so sorry about this," she apologized.

"You don't need to apologize. I am touched, for I could never have though to have such a good friend in you when we first met, but as I said, I won't be too sad, because I know I am leaving you, and Downton, into good and capable hands. You have many wonderful years left with Dickie, and Mary is taking the best care of Downton anyone could."

"I'm glad you're at peace with it, I'm not sure I would be..."

"I am, and I won't be held down. As long as I am capable, I will be living my life just the way I have, and I beg of you not to fuss over anything. I want to do this on my own way. At this moment, I feel fine!"

Isobel sniffed. "I understand, but I can't help fussing a bit, it's in my blood."

A smile as warm as the summer passed by decorated Violets face and it broke her heart. "Now, dry your tears. I am not dead yet."

"When are you going to tell the others?"

"Tomorrow."

Isobel nodded and toyed with the peace of fabric in the hands. "I should be getting back, Dickie is waiting for me."

She stood up and for a moment, looked terribly lost. She couldn't imagine a life without her anymore.

Then, she bid he cousin goodbye. It would not be a final one, but it hurt just as much. "I'll try to come more often..."

"And you will be very welcome, my dear."

* * *

The walk back to Crawley House was pure agony. Isobel was trapped inside her own head and the day didn't seem lovely at all anymore. The falling leaves and withered flowers now reminded her of death. More tears came and ran down her face. She tried to wipe them away. Everyone had to die, but why did it have to hurt so much?

Thankfully the village was quiet. Isobel saw only couple of people, and they were too far off to see her face clearly. She walked past the cemetery and couldn't help thinking about all the people she had loved, who were now buried there.

_Matthew, Lavinia, Sybil...and soon, the Dowager Lady Grantham._

When she stepped through the gate of her own house, she felt relieved, but a part of her didn't want to go inside. Dickie would be waiting for her.

When she closed the door behind her, she climbed up the stairs as quickly as she could and went into their shared bedroom. She lay the black purse on her dressing table and pulled the long hatpin out of her hair.

She threw the hat on the bed and sat down, burying her head in her hands. Soon, she was sobbing.

Her husband had been comfortably reading a book in the drawing room when he had heard the door open and close. He had expected Isobel to come and greet him, but apparently, she had gone straight upstairs.

When after a while there was still no sign of her, Dickie got up and put down the book. He opened the door and stepped into the hall. Isobel's coat was not hanging on the stand, but he had definitely heard her come in. He made his way up and noticed that their bedroom door was ajar.

When he stepped in, he saw her sitting by her dressing table. She was still wearing her coat, but the hat lay on their bed. She had buried her face in her hands and it only took him a couple of seconds to realize that she was crying. She was shaking uncontrollably, and heart wrenching sobs were escaping her mouth. She was oblivious to his presence.

Dickie got instantly worried, and with a couple of determined steps he was by her side. He lay his hand on her back and bent down to talk to her. "Isobel, darling, what on earth is the matter?"

She startled at his touch but was too hysterical to praise a proper answer. Isobel took his other hand in her own and never wanted to let go. Dickie had never seen her like this, and it frightened him immensely. Her grip was almost painfully tight.

"Please, you're scaring me. Try to calm down," he pleaded and stroked her back as an attempt to calm her. "Breathe, love, breathe."

Isobel tried to get a hold of her breathing and drew in shaky breaths. Dickie was now kneeling beside her, watching her with a concerned gaze. "What's happened?"

"She's going to die..."

Isobel didn't need to say more to make him understand. Dickie stood up and pulled her with him, directing her to sit on the bed. He moved the hat out of the way and sat beside her. Isobel lay her head on his shoulder and his arms wrapped her in a tight embrace. "Everyone dies. Everyone leaves...they all leave me, every time," she mumbled to his neck and his heart broke for her.

"I'm not going anywhere." Dickie kissed her head and mover his hands up and down her body.

"But we can't know that, can we?"

"No, but I promise to try."

Isobel's breath evened and she relaxed against him. His steady heartbeat and warmth comforted her. "I love you," he heard her whisper.

"I love you too. So terribly much."

Isobel freed herself from Dickie's arms and stood up, taking off the coat that was still on her. She snitched and opened a drawer to take a handkerchief. "I'm sorry… Dinner is waiting," she said as she once again dried her eyes. This was not at all like her

He watched her walk to the door and made a notion to himself to hold her a bit longer in his arms tonight. "You're allowed to feel upset and I want you to know that you can always talk to me. About anything. I'm your husband and I'll always be here for you, just as you are for me."

"I know, and I cherish you for it."

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**AN: Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed the movie as much as I did. And a big thanks to F for encouraging me and fangirling with me!**

**~T**


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